Everything Went Dark
by XaosLogos
Summary: What have I done? What am I? Am I truly a monster? A young sorceress roams the shadowy halls of an ancient castle, searching for a truth she might never find... A backstory for Nyx from Fire Emblem Fates.
1. I - Everything Went Dark

**I - Everything Went Dark**

What have I done? What am I? Am I truly a monster? A young sorceress roams the shadowy halls of an ancient castle, searching for a truth she might never find...

 _[This story takes place before the events of Fates. Each chapter is a separate episode from the life of Nyx. It is based on the Japanese version of the game, and does NOT contain any spoilers for the storyline of Fire Emblem Fates.]_

* * *

Nyx hurried her pace, having roamed through these castle hallways for far too long.

 _It has to be here somewhere... or have I gone wrong again?_

Another hallway. Cold stone walls surrounded her. Ageing chandeliers hanging above lit her way. Paintings and portraits lined the hallways, but all the figures seemed faceless, all the landscapes seemed to be of ruins.

She clutched her tome to her chest. These walls chilled her to the bone. Her thin purple cape barely provided her any warmth.

 _I must press forward. No turning back now. This time, I'll find it. I have to._

Each hallway she turned into was just like the last. An endless maze of ancient corridors. For a moment, she felt like a poor little girl lost in a crowded market, separated from her parents. Except here, she was separated from everything and everyone.

This was hardly a place for a frail, young sorceress. Or anyone, for that matter. Yet here she was, searching for something she could never seem to find, grasping for a truth that would always elude her.

Another corridor, another empty promise. She walked past more doors, more hallways, when something tempted her to turn around instead of proceeding around yet another corner.

She spun about, and there it was...

* * *

An ornately decorated door beckoned to her. A large, arching double door, it radiated importance, appearing considerably less worn than the other portals she had passed.

It was as if the passage had materialized out of nothing. All she had to do was turn around, and it was right there. For some reason, this did not surprise her. This felt right in place, somehow.

Past the door was a large bedchamber, the caress of darkness inside barely held at bay by a gentle candlelight.

A large, four-posted canopy bed, fit for a king and his queen. Tall, intricately carved furniture made of expensive imported timber. Rich tapestries on the walls. Someone important lived here, once.

 _Where is it?_

In the far corner, a dresser, the kind which fancy ladies stand before to put on their make-up and style their hair. More importantly, above it, covered with a sheet, what was shaped like a mirror.

 _The mirror of truth._

Excitedly, she proceeded towards the mirror, heart filled with hope, but her mind filled with hesitation.

 _The moment of truth._

She grabbed the sheet covering the piece, unfurling it, revealing the mirror underneath.

With a sudden _whoosh_ , the candles all went out. Just as suddenly, the candles were lit again, but this time, their orangey-red glow replaced with uncomfortable purple-blue flames.

 _Show me what I really am..._

The mirror remained blank.

Then, two red dots appeared. Glowing, red eyes.

 _...So its true._

Three runes, with a similar, though weaker, red glow, appeared. One above the eyes, two below.

 _Just like these cursed marks on my face..._

A figure began to take shape. She could see her long, messy hair, the outline of her figure...

But somehow, it was twisted, deformed, like the trunks of ancient dead trees in a haunted forest.

 _So this is the real me. I really am a monster._

Sorrow and despair filled her. A tear almost dripped from her eye, but she regained her composure.

 _No, I deserve this. If this is who I really am..._

A hand slowly emerged from the mirror. Thin like hers, but the nails, those dreadful nails, long and curled, like claws. The hand's skin was rotten and torn, trembling, reaching, probing... asking?

More of the hand extend from the mirror, her shadowy counterpart struggling to emerge from the darkness on the other side.

 _No, this can't be me. It can't. It can't!_

She would have screamed, but it was useless. There was no one here to hear her. No one here, but her other self.

She took one last look at the escaping horror, her living nightmare, then turned around and ran.

Running away, as fast as her little legs were take her. Around one corner, then around the next, only a vague idea of where she was going. Into another hallway. Past another door. Not looking back. She knew she couldn't look back. The faint recollection of where the exit was located soon escaped her mind, as she turned into yet another hallway.

 _Running away yet again._

A few ragged breaths. Then running again, now sprinting, where to she did not know.

* * *

She passed a few more long hallways. The walls seem to grow ever colder. The cracks underneath the doorways she passed were no longer black shadows but appeared to emit an otherworldly violet glow. The network of hallways seemed impossibly complex. Another turn, and...

A dead end. Only a wall of stone stood ahead of her at the end of the corridor. No going back.

Her other self rounded the corner with an eerie grace.

She opened the tome she had been clutching, but to her surprise the pages were blank. She collected her thoughts, making the preparatory motions to cast a spell. But she could not gather the strength or the willpower.

 _Shoot_.

This place was dead. No magical energy flowed through these walls. Cold and dead, devoid of any magical currents. Of course it was. Was the tome she brought only for mere comfort?

She dropped the tome. Her doppleganger advanced towards her ever so slowly, almost floating. Dread and despair filled her, a chill running down her neck.

 _So this is it..._

The shadowy form called to her. Not with words, but with feelings. Fear. Sorrow. Anger. Despair. Agony. Regret. It beckoned for her to give in, to join her other self.

Nyx got down on her knees, eyes closed. Not out of fear or submission... but out of acceptance.

Her shadow self began to grow as it approached, as if turning into something far more sinister.

 _If this is my time, take me. I have sinned. I have erred. I have strayed from the path. If it is my fate to suffer through the rest of my days and beyond, then I deserve it._ _I have tried to make amends, and I have failed._

 _Take me._

The entity before her no longer resembled a young girl. It was now a hulking monstrosity that took up the entire corridor. Claws, massive curled horns, a mouth full of ravenous fangs, exuding a warm, steamy breath.

She stared right into it. It's eyes were like spiralling galaxies, lost in the enormity of the void of the cosmos itself.

 _Take me. I no longer fear you... I no longer fear myself._

A gleam in the demon's eyes. As if the galaxies themselves were about to explode. Its form began to expand, no, collapse... And then...

* * *

Everything went dark.

There was nothing. Then, all of existence hung suspended in the void, like a blanket thrown into the air.

The darkness converged at a point, began to flow, no, rushed, as if being sucked in by some great cosmic vacuum, streaming into the page of an opened book.

The pages hurriedly flipped towards the book's beginning. Of its own volition, the ancient tome slammed itself shut, leaving a cloud of dust hanging in the air.

A flickering violet flame of a single candle barely illuminating the room in an eerie bluish glow.

The worn, faded purple cover of a thick, musty old tome.

Concentric circles sketched in chalk on the floor.

 _So I'm back in my study..._

Of the twelve candles arranged in a circle around her, only one remained lit.

 _...Only one?_

She sighed with relief, letting out a breath long held.

 _Hmph. That's one way to face my demons._

A moment's reflection, then she closed her eyes again.

 _...Still, am I going too far again?_


	2. II - White Rabbits, White Lies

**II - White Rabbits, White Lies**

Nyx seeks out the wisdom of an ancient witch, rumoured to be centuries old. But witches are not known for giving straightforward answers...

* * *

The fading sunset illuminated the mountains in the background, as Nyx caught sight of the village on the horizon. A vibrant, green meadow was to the left of the dusty road. Not too far on the right, a lush, dense forest started to encroach on the fields, as if it were crawling down from its mountainous perch.

The sub-alpine air was clean and crisp; the freshness of it all was a delight to her senses.

The approach to the village teemed with life. Birds were singing, foxes were twisting through the trees, a small herd of moose was grazing in the meadow. Most curiously, a white rabbit leaped across her path. Seeing as it was but the beginning of autumn, one would expect the rabbits to still be wearing their coats of brown or grey.

The settlement ahead was something more than a village, but something less than a town. Homesteads started to appear alongside the road well before she got into the village proper. The simple log cabins were typical of the settlements at the foot of the mountains.

She was not here to admire the wonders of nature, however. She focused herself on her task. There was supposed to be a witch who lived around these parts, one known for her unusually long lifespan. Some stories claimed she was several hundred years old. If there was any truth to these tales, then this witch may be able to help her with her cursed condition.

 _It is only but a faint hope, and these stories are most likely mere folk tales... but if they are true..._

Many ancient texts described sorcerers who lived unnaturally long lives, and most of them tended to be hermits. It certainly was not out of the realm of possibility that this witch was such a sorceress.

 _If she knows the secret to extending her life, then maybe she will know something about my curse..._

Well into the town proper, Nyx looked around for a tavern. While she normally despised such locales, she had to admit that they were an excellent starting point for gathering information and acquainting oneself with local folklore.

Having identified the tavern, Nyx headed towards it. As she entered into the long wooden building, she lifted the hood of her worn brown robe over her head. Nyx wore her dark mage's cloak underneath, but in places like these, her kind was rarely seen and usually was thought of as a source of evil tidings, so she donned a simple traveller's cloak overtop to avoid setting the local folk on edge.

* * *

Inside the tavern, the crowd was raucous, filling the air with laughter, yelling, and the occasional argument. The locals were reluctant to speak of the witch, and understandably so. Yet their apprehension was easily overcome after she bought some patrons few drinks.

 _Typical country folk; their lips loosen so easily when the proper method of persuasion is applied..._

"Are you crazy? Why would you want to see that ol' hag?" someone ridiculed.

"I heard she's a thousand years old!" exclaimed one patron.

"Nah, dimwit, that's impossible, you really believe in those stories?" doubted another.

"Well I hear she kidnaps children and eats them!"

"My grandma told me she turns people who bother her into frogs."

"You guys are all so gullible. The place's been empty for years, there ain't no one livin' there."

"Then what happened to ol' farmer Tobias' son?"  
"Probably got lost in the forest."

"You all are full of it!"

The prattle continued on and on, with two heavily intoxicated men almost coming to blows over which version of the witch story was correct. Most of it she tuned out, but she kept her ears open for anything that might be useful, as most folk stories start with a grain of truth somewhere in them.

At one point someone questioned whether she was too young to even be in the tavern, but a harsh glare from her red eyes and summoning a small spark of lightning with a snap of her fingers scared him into silence. For a moment, the entire crowd surrounding the table stared at her, but just as suddenly they returned to drinking and bantering.

Soon enough, she learned the location of the witch's home. Some hour or more beyond the town, deep within the forest, the overgrown path clearly forking off from the main road.

 _Should be simple enough to find._

As she was exiting the tavern , she was bumped into by a careless woman.

"Excuse me... have you seen my daughter?" the woman asked, clearly anxious. She had noted this woman was harassing other patrons earlier; this must be the reason why.

"No."

"Well, her name is Melia. She's ten years old, golden hair. If you see her... Please... She's been gone for two days, my dear Melia! She gets sick so easily..." The woman started to tear up.

"I am not from these parts. If I learn anything, I shall let you know."

Having acquired the information she set out to learn, Nyx retired to her lodgings at a small inn.

 _One step closer. Perhaps tomorrow I shall finally learn something of this condition of mine._

* * *

Early the next morning, Nyx headed out to locate the witch's manor. Near an hour past the town, a small path diverged off the main road. It headed into the forest; near its beginning was a worn sign that could no longer be read.

At first, the path was not much different from a hunting trail. As she wandered deeper into the woods, the trees seemed to cluster closer together, their branches became longer and more twisted, their barks turned from healthy browns to dying greys. The canopy of the trees above grew so thick that it began to feel as if it were night; though it was still well before noon. The path, too, began to wind and twist, roll up and down, all too frequently intercepted by oversized roots or fallen logs.

Eventually, she reached a black barred gate, vines tangling up its thin metal posts.

The gate easily screeched open. Beyond, she could see a withered manor, its faded wood panelling almost blending into the forested background. Moss grew on its walls, and long tangles of unkempt ivy crawled up to the roof. The stone path leading up to the manse was almost overcrowded by the weeds growing between the tiles. Beams of sunlight no longer penetrated through the trees; it looked as if it were the last of twilight rather than the approaching noon that it really was.

The manor looked uninhabited, but that did not deter Nyx. Down the path she walked, and up the creaking steps to the entrance.

She knocked twice.

Nothing.

Again she knocked.

Again, nothing.

She grabbed the door handle, twisted... and the door came open.

* * *

The lobby was dark as she entered it, but of a sudden, candle-fires appeared out of nowhere. The entrance hall was now sparsely lit by a scattering of dim candles and an old chandelier handing above.

 _Magical fire. But who knows how long ago this spell was set in place..._

"Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed, but it received no response.

Of greater concern was the presence in the air. She could feel the after-currents of a magical discharge around her, lingering in the way that smoke and the smell of burning remain long after the fire has gone out.

A chill went down her spine. The mansion felt both dead and alive at the same time. If there was someone here, they had not come to greet her with open arms. Nyx pulled her tome out of her bag, grasping it tightly, should the need to defend herself arise.

After a moment's thought, she proceeded up a curving staircase to the second level. As she carefully proceeded down the upper floor hallway, she thought she heard something.

Crying? Weeping? Whatever it was, the sound did not fill her with comfort. She continued to follow the sound to the end of the dimly lit hallway, where it seemed to emanate from a door that was slightly ajar.

She took a breath, clutched her tome tighter, and gently pushed open the door.

* * *

To her astonishment, the first thing she spotted was a little girl, sitting on a neatly made bed. Her eyes were covered with her hands, gently sobbing into them. The room was illuminated by a faint blue hue coming from the window that made it difficult to make out any details.

The girl did not notice Nyx.

Nyx finally broke the silence. "Hello."

"N-no, please don't hurt me!" cried the girl, crawling backwards further onto the bed.

 _Golden hair._

"Don't worry, I won't do anything to you," Nyx responded, gently lowering her hood and softly smiling. "Your name is Melia, correct?"

"Y-yes," stuttered the girl.

"I'll take you home to your mommy and daddy."

"Uh... uh... o-ok..." sobbed Melia.

Nyx took Melia by the hand, and led her towards the entrance of the mansion. She was half-prepared for the witch to spring some kind of trap at any moment. Yet they reached the entrance unbothered. On the way back to the village, Nyx managed to get out of the girl that she had gotten lost in the forest chasing a rabbit, but she would not tell what happened in the mansion. All Nyx could deduce was that Melia was clearly frightened, near traumatized, and that some sort of powerful magic was used inside the mansion recently. The terrified girl did not let go of Nyx's hand for an instant.

Only when the girl's homestead, not far beyond the outskirts of the village, came into view, did she ease her grip.

* * *

The child having been returned to the safety of her mother, having omitted the fact that she was found in the mansion, Nyx set out to confront the witch, this time with an even greater resolve. Now she had a second question to be answered, beyond her own curse.

By the time she arrived at the mansion again, it was nearing sunset, yet the thickness of the forest meant that the area did not look much different than it did in the morning. This time, Nyx entered the mansion with her tome open and ready. She was ready for a confrontation.

Yet everything inside was strangely tranquil. No sound, no motion, no signs of life.

 _Could it really be that there was no witch? Could the girl just have wandered in here on her own?_

Nyx searched the mansion, going from chamber to chamber, probing for clues. The enchanted candles lit up most rooms as she entered, and went out as she left. _A most efficient spell._ A diligent sweep of the main and upper floors yielded nothing of significance. The manor felt as if it had not been lived in for months, yet something did feel quite _right_.

It was only when descending into the basement, that Nyx felt a chilling cold. No magical candlelight greeted her this time. She was forced to provide her own light source, summoning a small ember in the palm of her right hand.

In the middle of the basement were a couple stacks of tomes, surrounding a strangely empty table. The tomes looked freshly disturbed. Nyx stopped to investigate the books, but they were either in strange languages she could not understand, or basic spellcasting manuals she was familiar with. A large grimoire with silvery inlaid symbols caught her attention, but she was unable to open it.

 _A magic seal._

She considered for a moment whether it was worth trying to force her way through it, but something else started to bother her. She could not tell what, only that some feeling was calling her to the deeper far side of the room. As she approached the room's end, she realized there was something _beyond the wall_.

Nyx shuffled through her bag, removing a thin black hardcover book. Opening it to a page she was well familiar with, she muttered the words under her breath, gesturing with her free hand in a symmetric manner. A gold ring appeared before her in the air before dispersing in a flash of orange-yellow light. Such an illumination spell was like child's play to her. Merely one of the earlier intermediate level spells young Nohrian mages were taught.

 _Ah, of course._

Golden threads now hanging on the wall delineated the shape of a door. It had been a simple incantation to reveal it, but one not sufficiently trained in magic would likely have never found this portal.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out towards the wall. Her hand went clean through the bricks, as if they weren't even there.

Another breath, and she stepped forward.

* * *

On the other side, there was a dark hallway. She conjured another fiery light in her palm. A straightforward corridor, walls of the same dark bricks found in the basement, leading forward into the shadows with no end in sight.

She walked forward. It started to feel colder and colder. The tunnel was no longer straight; at times it pointed upward, at time it dug downward.

Eventually, after how long she did not know, a white fog started to appear, and the air started to feel... different. More natural. She continued, ever more cautious. Eventually, the mist became so thick, she could barely see ahead of herself.

Finally, a stone stairway. Up she climbed, further into the mist, until her sight was consumed with white.

For a moment, all she could see was a dazzling white.

 _I wonder where I will end up this time._

She emerged from the fog into a forested area teeming with verdant green. Trees. Shrubs. Grasses. Leaves. The sound of a flowing river. The air was crisp, pure, refreshing. She could not help but take in a few breaths. Such a natural, clean feeling.

Observing her surroundings, she noted the trees bearing numerous strange fruits she had not seen before. Flowers of wild blues and deep violets grew around tree trunks. Butterflies fluttered about.

 _Such unusual vegetation...this place might very well be some sort of paradise._

Straight ahead of her, there was what seemed to be a natural path; a corridor in which no trees grew, their canopies instead tangling together high, high above.

The place was teeming with wildlife; singing birds, dancing butterflies, hopping rabbits, dashing deer, foxes, bears, wolves, even a prowling panther... None of which seemed hostile to each other. Everything seemed to coexist in perfect peace .

Nyx followed down the obvious path, hardly able to take in the freshness of it all.

* * *

Not far down the path, she spotted a gentle creek meandering through the trees. Going further, a small pond, with a little waterfall feeding into it from a raised, rocky area on one side.

 _At last._

She spotted a robed figure sitting on the rocks by the pond. Feeling no ill presence, she continued forward.

The figure turned around.

An aging woman, silvery hair, slightly wrinkled. She was wearing a plain, dark robe that was most uncharacteristic of magic users of these parts. On her lap was a white rabbit, which she was petting gently.

"Hello, madam. I am Nyx, dark mage of Nohr. I do not mean to intrude on your sanctuary, but I have come seeking your counsel," she introduced her self.

"Hi, nice to meet you!" the woman replied, strangely enthusiastic.

Nyx was taken aback by such a greeting.

"I have two questions to ask you, if I may," said Nyx, trying to be respectful.

"Ooh, a question? For me?" replied the witch, stroking the rabbit all the while.

 _This is not what I expected. I suppose with age, some people become somewhat childlike..._

"Very well. I would first like to ask your aid regarding the curse I am afflicted with. It is said you know the secrets of longevity and extending one's life span."

The old woman gave her a puzzled look. "Aff... affliked? Long... what?" she asked.

The rabbit, previously oblivious to her presence, looked up at Nyx.

 _What is going on here?_

"Did the kind old lady send you here?" the witch asked.

"What lady?" responded Nyx, startled.

"You know, the one that lives here?"

It finally dawned on Nyx what was going on.

"What is your name?" she asked of the witch.

"Oh, my name is Melia. Nice to meet you!" responded the other woman with eagerness.

 _Of course._

It all came together in Nyx's mind.

 _This was the missing girl, her soul inside the witch's body. That means the girl I returned to her parents, that was actually the witch!_

 _A soul transfer. And this poor girl doesn't even seem to know what's happening._

"I can take you home if you would like," offered Nyx.

"No, I don't want to go home!" protested Melia.

"Why not? Your mommy and daddy miss you very much," asked Nyx.

"I-I don't want to go back! Daddy is mean to me! He doesn't care!"

"What about your mommy? I know she misses you."

"B-but the kind lady said I could stay here as long as I wanted! She said it wouldn't hurt anymore if I'm here."

"What wouldn't hurt?"

"E-everything!"

"Everything?"

"I-I keep getting sick. But the kind lady said if I stay here and drink this water, I won't be sick anymore!"

 _Ah. A healing spring. A sacred grove._

 _So this was the secret to the witch's lifespan._

 _Still, this is not right. The witch stole this girl's youth and childhood. She stole Melia's body._

"The witch tricked you. She took your body. Come with me. I can help you, I can fix things," offered Nyx.

 _She was not so sure about the last part._

"No, I don't want to go! I like it here!" was Melia's answer.

 _Stubborn child._

Nyx readied her spellbook, intending to cast a simple hex that would put Melia to sleep, so she could carry her back home and undo the witch's work.

As she opened the tome, something changed.

The light feeling in the air disappeared, the sun's light weakened, its rays no longer as prominent. The birds stopped their cheerful singing. The entire grove turned silent, hostile.

The animals of the sacred forest, previously going about their own business, suddenly turned towards her, teeth bared, claws ready, growling, snarling. The bear, the wolf, the moose, the fox, the owl, all glaring at her. As if they were possessed by some guardian spirit that Nyx had suddenly incurred the wrath of. The entire sanctuary turned against her, in protection of Melia.

After a moment's stalemate, a brief consideration, Nyx put her tome away.

Instantly, the animals turned away and returned to their normal state, the sky brightened, the air returned to its immaculate state.

"Very well, I will leave you... Is there anything you would like me to tell your parents?"

"...No. B-but thank you, Miss Nyx, for wanting to help me. I... I think I'll be happy here, ok?" answered Melia.

Before turning away, Nyx approached the pond with a small glass phial she had taken out of her bag.

"May I?" she asked.

Melia nodded.

Nyx kneeled down and filled the phial with water from the healing spring.

"Good bye," she said to Melia.

Melia did not respond, continuing to pet the rabbit in her lap.

Nyx felt sorry for the girl. Yet she could not get it out of her mind that she was missing something. It was only on the way back to the town, in the waning of the sunset, did she come across a realization.

 _The soul transfer ritual. To swap one's soul into the body of another, it is an extremely dangerous procedure... unless both parties consent to the transfer._

 _So... does this mean Melia agreed to the ritual? That she let the witch take her body, of her own free will?_

 _That would make it all the more difficult to undo, if neither party wants the ritual reversed._

She continued to mull over the curious situation, all the way back to Melia's home on the edge of town.

* * *

Nyx doubted her ability to reverse the transaction. The last time... had not gone so well. If she erred again, the result would be far worse than the current situation.

 _Is it worth the risk?_

As she arrived at the door of the humble farmer's abode, she was still agonizing over what to do, over what to tell the mother.

The mother kindly invited Nyx into her home. She offered Nyx a bowl of broth, which the weary sorceress accepted with gratitude. In the corner of the home, she noticed a man sprawled out on the bed. Most likely her husband. His clothing was tarnished, he was in an awkward pose, one hand and leg trailing off the side of the bed... and he reeked of the stench of alcohol.

As Melia's mother set down the bowl of soup for Nyx, she said, "I can't thank you enough, young lady. Our Melia, I don't know what I would do if we couldn't find her."

Nyx nodded, starting to eat the soup. A simple stew, but warm and satisfying to her tongue.

"Melia is such a sickly child. She's often in a lot of pain. We can't let her stay outside too much, so she mostly just sleeps all day. The healer said she probably won't live to adulthood. But we try to treasure every moment with her, we try to make things as comfortable as we can for her. At least, when my husband is sober." The woman started to tear up, telling the sad tale of her daughter.

"She's been pretty lively since you brought her back, at least. It's nice to see her playing outside with the animals for once."

 _A fragile, dying child. A drunkard husband. A dirt poor farming family. It must be hard for them._

 _Yet, I cannot bear to tell her the awful truth of what happened_ _with her daughter_ _. That would only break her spirit further. No, perhaps it is not so awful?_

 _So, do I tell her?_

Nyx tried to comfort the woman, but to no avail. After finishing the meal, as she was getting up to leave, she stealthily removed a small pouch filled with gold from her bag. She placed it on the chair, so that the woman would not see it, at least, not immediately.

 _She would refuse this gift if I were to offer it outright. So I leave it where they will find it soon enough. They need it more than I do._

 _I wish I could heal the girl. I wish I could reverse the witch's ritual. But I only know the arts of manipulation and destruction, not the art of healing._

A twinge of regret rippled through Nyx's soul.

 _Leaving behind the gold... is the least I can do._

Nyx bid her farewell to the woman. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the threshold of the doorway, the secret of the witch's manor leaving with her.

 _Now I understand. If it is true that Melia is in such poor health, if her father is a drunkard, then the witch spared her a short life of pain and agony...Perhaps she would be happier living in seclusion in the sacred grove..._

* * *

Outside again, it was just past sunset, the sky darkening, only the reddish afterglow of the day remaining. Nyx saw Melia, or at least, the girl who once was Melia, running in the field nearby, chasing after a white rabbit.

"Nyxie!" called out the girl, with great enthusiasm.

Nyx smiled, but she could not help but notice a blackish-blue mark under the girl's eye.

 _Most likely the work of her father._

"Are you leaving?" asked the girl.

"Yes."

"Aww, don't go..." she protested.

"I have no more reason to stay here."

"Have you found what you were looking for?" the girl enquired, tilting her head slightly sideways.

The rabbit continued to dance around her feet.

"Not quite. I found something else."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"I know exactly what happened in the mansion." Nyx thought it was worth a try.

Melia only smiled back, knowingly.

Nyx considered one last time whether to put the girl to sleep, take her to the mansion, and attempt to undo the ritual. Yet she gave up on the idea just as soon as it arose.

 _Maybe it's better this way._

"Goodbye, Melia. I hope... you too found what you were seeking."

The girl simply kept smiling, then ran towards her home, leaving Nyx behind. She was so innocent and carefree, that for a second, Nyx doubted whether a ritual had even taken place at all, whether it all was some sort of cruel trick, but she quickly put the thought out of her mind.

 _We are not that different after all._

Nyx did not get the answer she came for. But she left having learned a different lesson, which was the next best thing.

 _If everyone ends up happy... was this really such a bad thing?_


	3. III - Shifting Sandscapes

**III - Shifting Sandscapes**

Amidst the scorching sunlight of the eternal desert, Nyx searches for an artifact that is said to turn back time itself... Yet shifting sands and ancient tombs prove to be the least of her problems.

* * *

Among the shifting sands of the eternal desert, there once thrived an ancient kingdom, whose true name is no longer remembered by any living being. There was said to live the pharaoh Menes'Abydos, who reigned for hundreds of years, and who built an empire that lasted thousands more. He possessed an hourglass that could alter the flow of time itself. Every time he turned it over, he would return to the days of his youth, and he would build up his kingdom greater and more prosperous every time. Yet he too succumbed to the fragility of mortality, and with him the hourglass was sealed, so that it could be used no more.

For every time the ritual is performed, every time the hourglass is turned over, another grain of sand becomes permanently stuck in one of its bulbs, bringing the world one step closer to its doom, for the universe itself is mortal, having only but a limited existence allotted to it, and every step back in time in fact brings it closer towards its end.

* * *

Or so the legend said. Scholars and sorcerers have long disputed whether the universe is infinite or definite in terms of its temporal existence, but that was not what interested Nyx.

 _If I could turn back time... I would go back to before... This would never have happened to me... This would never have happened to us._

Nyx found herself in the desert city, in pursuit of the mausoleum of the ancient pharaoh Menes'Abydos, and hopefully, his hourglass. It was a bustling city, with buildings of yellowish-white clay, and narrow alleys dusted with the pale yellow sand that blew in from the surrounding dunes.

The market district was as crowded as one would expect. Traders' booths lined the streets, with people haggling and bargaining all around. The crowd flowed, tending in one direction, like an undecided mountain stream. On the street corners, dancers would perform their art, standing on small carpets that protected their bare feet, their garbs in lively colours, their motions smooth and seductive, their faces veiled to add an allure of mystery to tempt onlookers even further. As she often does when traversing such areas, Nyx was wearing her simple traveller's cloak over her mage's garb underneath, plain and undeserving of attention. Perhaps too much so.

She approached a merchant's storefront. An antique store. She examined the various trinkets and baubles laid out on his table. Mostly worthless junk, as it usually is at such a bazaar. But one spherical object caught her attention. It was a small purple orb with a glassy texture, like an oversized marble. Suspended inside was a dark swirl of a golden, glittering fluid, now moving, now still inside the orb.

Nyx tried to get the seller's attention, but he was occupied with another customer. On and on their conversation went. After a while, Nyx tried to interrupt, but she got no response. The conversation continued. After another minute, Nyx tried to interject again. Again, no luck. The engagement not looking to end anytime soon, she cleared her throat and reached for the orb. The merchant finally acknowledged her, with great reluctance.

After a silent moment, he shooed her away, motioning with his hands, "Get away from here, miscreant. Go on, get away!"

 _Ah, he thinks I am a mere child._

She reached for her pouch of gold, but even when she brought it out, the merchant continued to yell at her.

"No, away with you, away!"

 _His loss._

At a stall further down the alley, Nyx's eye was caught by an exotic fruit. Round and pale green, it looked deliciously succulent. The vendor being unoccupied, she cleared her throat. He continued to look right past her. Nyx coughed again. Again, she was met with no response.

"Excuse me, I would like to purchase a fruit."

No response. As if she wasn't even there.

Shaking her pouch of gold curiously failed to attract the attention of the seller. He continued to look at the passersby.

 _What a strange culture. Do they not allow children to trade in the market?_

She decided to take a different approach. She approached a nearby woman by another produce stall. Putting on a face of worry and desperation, she decided to play the role of the lost child. Tugging on the woman's dress, she looked up into her eyes, making the most innocent impression she could.

"Excuse me ma'am, but I'm lost... I can't find my-"

She was rudely interrupted by the woman, who batted Nyx's hand away with great force.

Nyx began to feign tearing up. The woman responded by yelling at her in a strange local dialect, waving her arms and making a commotion.

Surprised, Nyx retreated.

 _Do they not allow children to speak to unrelated adults? Is that it? Some kind of cultural rule of respect?_

Having given up on buying anything at the bazaar, Nyx decided to try to find a lodging for her stay. She expected to be a few days at the least. The ruins of the tomb of the pharaoh Menes'Abydos were elusive to find. They were said to shift their position from time to time, with no constant location or reliable way to find them, so a combination of rumours and research would have to guide her way.

She settled on a traditional inn near the city's centre. She entered, feeling the relief of the cool air inside. But when she asked for a room, the innkeeper told her there were no vacancies. At the hotel across the street, she received the same answer. A few buildings over, she was again denied. When she asked if there was some special event happening to account for the lack of rooms, she was rebuked without even being given an answer.

Standing in the lobby of another such inn after being rejected yet again, trying to collect her thoughts, she overheard the conversation between the innkeeper and a foreign traveller. To her surprise, the innkeeper told the man that there was plenty of room, and she observed the transaction as the traveller slid a few coins on the counter in payment for his lodging.

Nyx was indignified. She charged up to the counter and asked, "What is the matter? You told me there was no room left!"

"No room for you!" the innkeeper barked.

"Why? Why for him, why not for me?"

"We don't want you here! Leave. Or I call guard!" he responded, in his heavily accented rendition of the common tongue.

Nyx stood her ground. "Why?"

A couple locals from the other side of the lobby closed in towards her. One put his hand on the handle of the sword sheathed by his side. Not wanting any trouble, Nyx took a few steps back and left.

 _What do they have against me? Hmmm, the merchants seem to not have any problem trading with women or local children, or other pale-skinned travellers like me, for that matter._

Unable to solve the puzzle, she continued her venture through the city.

* * *

It was at high noon, when the sun was at its apex, that Nyx arrived at the central plaza of the city.

It was a sight to behold. The ground was covered with exquisite tiling, decorated with complex figures and geometric arrangements. Despite being tread on by countless pairs of feet each day, the tilework maintained a perfect shine, reflecting the sunlight from above in the most magnificent way.

The structures surrounding the plaza were grandiose and finely decorated, the walls engraved with intricate carvings and flourishes Like small palaces, they were arranged in a circular fashion enclosing the plaza. At the far end, the wide central avenue led to the steps of a massive temple, pyramidic in shape, a reflective, glimmering silver, extending from the horizon like some giant claw protruding from the earth.

Most significantly, at the midpoint of the plaza, there was a circular fountain, a shining slate grey in colour, appearing untarnished and unworn by the flow of time. In the fountain, there was a colossal statue of a humanoid figure, with the head and wings of a bird of prey. It towered far above the roofs of the highest buildings. So tall it was that Nyx had to stretch her neck up to see its summit. Out of a golden metal it was made, every wrinkle in the figure's clothes, every feather in its wings finely detailed. It was an impressive sight, a truly masterful work of craftsmanship. Above the sculpture's head, a pair of birds circled, their appendages spread out as if to display their impressive wingspan.

Nyx approached the fountain. The water was clear and pure. Circular plants, resembling water lily flowers, floated on the water's surface. She spotted a frog sitting on one such leaf, its weight easily supported by the sturdy plant. A few more frogs were jumping around at the base of the fountain.

 _Frogs? Here in the desert? Must be some uniquely adapted species._

One of the birds circling above let out a screech. Looking up at the birds again, Nyx determined they were herons, grey in colour, with long pointed orange beaks and magnificent crests trailing from their heads. They were majestic birds, but there was something unsettling about this misplaced fauna; neither herons nor frogs belonged in a desert ecosystem.

Feeling the scorch of the sun high above, drops of sweat dripping from her forehead, Nyx thought to wet her face with water from the fountain to cool off. As she dipped her fingers in the pool, the water was not just cool, but outright cold, unexpectedly so. This action coincided with a terrible screech from one of the herons, immediately garnering Nyx's attention. One of the birds, now flapping it's wings wildly, circled around once more and perched on the statue's right shoulder.

Suddenly, a rumble. The statue's arm cracked. Nyx instinctively rolled away in the other direction, as the appendage came down in a crashing thud, shattering into several chunks in the force of the impact.

At first there was yelling and screaming among the crowd. Raising her head, it looked like no one was in the area where the arm fell; no one appeared hurt. As Nyx got up and brushed the sand off her cloak, the panic turned to an excited murmur. Everyone had stopped in their tracks. But they were not looking at the statue, or the fallen arm.

All their eyes were on Nyx.

A hush fell on the crowd, penetrated by the occasional whisper.

Nyx let out a sigh.

 _Not again._

* * *

The crowd appeared to get larger and larger, as people pushed to the front to get a better view of the cause of the commotion. Yet their interest lied not in the collapsed statute, but in Nyx.

A voice yelled out from the crowd. "Heretic!"

"Witch!"

"Demon child!"

" _Cursed_!"

More and more voices arose, some angry, some scared, all directed at her.

 _Uh oh._

The plaza guards began to approach her, spears raised, shining breastplates reflecting the bright sun's rays.

At first, Nyx considered striking the guards down with bolts of thunder, but she didn't want to cause any more trouble. The guards fast approached.

She looked for an opening, then bolted. Dashing forward as fast as her legs would take her, she ran right a the crowd, towards an alleyway.

As she expected, the crowd parted before her, letting her run by, as the guards began pursuit.

 _Figures. They're scared of me. They don't even want to get near me._

Nyx ran into the alley, turned into another, then another. The guards were right behind her, and gaining fast. Despite her nimbleness, her short legs did not allow her to run at great speed, and the guards were far better trained. She navigated the maze of alleys, submerged in shadows from nearby buildings. She managed to lose the guards for a moment, but soon another pair appeared in front of her, forcing her to double back.

Into another passage. Another turn. Then, a dead end.

A moment to think.

 _I can't escape from this city without a mount. The desert is too harsh to traverse on foot. If I cast any spells, if I strike them down, that will only add fuel to the fire. Hmm, how do I get out of this one?_

The guards came around the corner. They did not speak, but their weapons were raised.

Nyx grabbed a tome from her bag, opened it up, and, quickly noticed there was something wrong.

" _Majestic Wings of Unrequited Love." Not that one!_

Nyx hurriedly threw the romantic novel in her bag and took another tome out of her bag, this time the proper magical tome, opened it, and whispered some words, gesticulating with her free hand.

A golden magic circle appeared below her, filled with complex patterns and structures inside.

The guards hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do with the new development.

 _Almost there..._

And just like that, in a puff of purple smoke, Nyx was gone, to the bewilderment of the guards.

* * *

Nyx reappeared in the middle of the desert. Not a landmark in sight, only a sea of sand. A sky of bright blue above, and an ocean of yellow below was all that there was before her.

Nyx sighed.

 _Ugh. I miscalculated._

This was the danger with magic. A slight mistake, and the results can differ wildly from what was desired. There was a reason mages do not engage in warping willy-nilly. There was a significant risk that they end up at a different location than they expected, or not end up anywhere at all. Hence, warping was only used a last resort, a measure of desperation that could very well land the user in far worse trouble than what they were escaping.

 _I was only supposed to warp a few streets over. What went wrong?_

 _More importantly, where am I, and how do I get... somewhere safe?_

She had no supplies on her. No food, and perhaps a quarter of a canteen of water in her bag. Even worse, no sense of direction. A dilemma emerged.

 _Do I wander around and try to find... something... or do I try and warp back to the city?_

Given the unfortunate result of her previous attempt at teleporting to safety, she decided to walk around, perhaps scale a higher dune to gain a better view of her surroundings.

 _I can't have warped that far..._

What was supposed to be a brief excursion to scout the area turned into hours of wandering. Whenever she would climb to the top of tall dune, it only seemed to collapse back into the sandy ocean under her, like a wave passing underneath a boat. An endless flow of sand. No landmarks in any direction.

Thirst began to claw at her throat.

 _Curses. I should have stayed where I was and tried to warp back._

It would have been easier to warp to her previous location from her staring point, but the task was not impossible. She had a sufficient certainty as the geospacial location of the city, which housed a strong presence of magical energies, both light and dark. She didn't have any bearing on where she was, but that could be overcome. She would merely have to envision her destination on a spiritual level, and let the currents guide her there. It was easier said than done, but having hopelessly wandered in the desert heat for who knows how many hours, it offered a better chance of success than her current action.

Nyx walked around, reading the energies around her, until she found a sufficiently calm starting point. She carefully drew some circles and lines in the sand around her, then kneeled down in the middle. Taking out a tome from her back, she began the teleportation process. This time, there was no need for hurry.

Taking her time, she calmed her thoughts. She envisioned the magical signatures of the city, of its people, of its pyramid. Slowly, her physical presence dissolved into the winds of the aether, as she let the currents of the eternal desert take her.

* * *

As she opened her eyes, she was greeted by an unsteady blue light.

 _Inside. But where?_

Blue flamed torches lined the walls of the corridor. Behind her, the door was closed. The only path lied ahead. The energy in this place was... unsettling.

With no choice but to go forward, she arose from her knees and proceeded.

The end of the hall split into two paths, left and right. The energies of this place flowed right, so the decision was easy to make.

As the hallway turned, something disturbed her. Her passage through the building was surprisingly uneventful so far.

The sorceress grabbed her trusty tome, and cast a simple incantation, illuminating the magical layer of the passage ahead of her. Her intuition had proved correct. Her illumination had highlighted several anomalous puddles of energy on the floor.

 _Traps. Of course._

She steeled herself, then sprinted ahead, jumping and weaving around the now revealed switches, dodging her way through the mystical minefield to safely reach the end of her corridor.

 _Phew._

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she entered into the next room.

At the end of a long, rectangular chamber, there was a portal of bright blue.

 _Finally._

The cavernous room was lined with tall statues, several times the height of a man, all depicting human-animal hybrids: wolves, panthers, other strange beasts. They resembled the statue that brought about this entire mess back in the city, but curiously, Nyx noted that there were no statues of bird-men. The wall ahead was marked with hieroglyphs and pictographs.

Atop the gate ahead of her, there was a series of symbols that confirmed both her hopes and fears.

The single word she recognized among the hieroglyphs read, "Menes."

 _What a strange twist this journey has taken. Someone or something has guided me right to where I really wanted to go._

As she approached the end of the chamber, she could feel the energy pulsing out from the barrier. She felt a great energy inside, as if it were calling out in loneliness, undisturbed for thousands of years. The magic currents around her all pointed in its direction. Such a barrier is always put in place for a reason. An ordinary person could spend a lifetime trying to get through and never find a way, short of tearing down the walls around it, and even that might not suffice, depending on the strength of the seal.

Coming closer, she observed that this was no ordinary prismatic gate. The passage was blocked by what look like a couple of thick, glowing, blue panes of glass. But within them there was something red, what looked like a heart, veins and arteries spread throughout the barrier, sprawling to it's edges. A pulse of light within it's core glowed and faded rhythmically, as if it really were a beating heart.

 _How does one gain entry to the heart of another?_

 _A key? A dagger? No, one must speak to them, earn their trust..._

Nyx rummaged through her bag, selecting a red pyramid shaped crystal, and sat down, cross legged. She took out a tome, a newer one but still well worn from frequent use, and set it out ahead of her.

She wrapped her hands around the crystal, closed her eyes, opened her mind, and listened...

* * *

Silence. Darkness. And then, a heartbeat.

Opening her eyes, everything around her was a light blue, just like the portal. There was no up or down, no sense of gravity or direction. Only white, blue, and occasional clouds of a foggy mist.

She heard a calling, and she followed. Treading carefully on thin air. Around her, invisible walls. She held her arms out ahead of her, in case she walked into a wall, but she did not need the precaution – the calling guided her movement through the invisible maze.

Then, she could see it. The red core. Pulsing, flashing, ever so slowly. As she got near, red tubes began to appear all around her, above, below, ahead... As if it were some twisted cardiovascular system, not belonging to a living being, but to a living _place_.

The core beckoned to her. It demanded her presence.

"Come closer," it asked.

Nyx knew this could very well be a trap. It could just as likely be a way through. Treading cautiously, navigating the labyrinth of not quite existent walls, increasingly connected by the network of red veins and arteries, she made her roundabout way towards the heart of all these things.

Then, she was there. No more walls. Had this place had a proper physical presence, it may have looked like a small, roughly circular chamber. A red object floated in the middle, seemingly shifting between a fluid and solid state every time she blinked. Occasionally she could see red tubes connecting to it, then they would disappear.

The heart spoke to her. "I have been here since the awakening of Ros'Nur'Nakk. To exist here and suffer, as I guard this passage. I have been alive and felt the pain of my severed heart, every moment of every millennium, giving life to this barrier that seals the way before you. This has been my punishment."

Then, Nyx heard two voices at once.

"Release me," pleaded one.

"Destroy me," hissed the other.

 _Which is it?_

She stepped closer. The heart started to shift forms even more rapidly, until it became shapeless, undefined, simply a floating reddish mass suspended in a white and blue aether.

Nyx reached out, gently, responding to it, "It shall be over soon."

She touched the core. It extended itself around her hand, as if it were shaking her hand, warm, soft, almost liquid. It then lashed out at Nyx, enveloped her, turning her sight red, until she was part of the core too...

"Thank you," was all she heard.

Slowly opening her eyes, she was back in the mausoleum. The crystal she held in her hands before, it was now pulsing. She could see the heart-like structure inside the crystal.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll deal with you later."

Looking up ahead, the barrier was now reduced to a faint blue light, having lost its guardian.

The magical currents were even more intense now, rushing into the next room, like a school of fish hurrying to their next feeding frenzy. Nyx placed her items into her bag, and proceeded to the door.

She reached out, placed her hand on the barrier... It went clean through. No longer having a solid form, all that was left of the prismatic gate was a faint blue afterimage, a ghostly body, merely light and nothing more.

She stepped forward, and proceeded into heart of the mausoleum. She could see the enormous sarcophagus ahead, and beyond it, at the far end, something resembling an altar.

As she entered the chamber, the entire tomb around her started rumbling, shaking, as if it were about to collapse. Dust and rocks fell from the ceiling. She was barely able to maintain her balance, but that mattered little if the entire structure was about to come crashing down on top of her.

Suddenly, the blue flamed torches went out. Nyx lost all feeling from her senses.

Only a faint blue light remained in her mind, and even that was slipping away.

Everything went dark. Again.

* * *

 _To be continued..._

[This is the first part of what will be a slightly longer plot arc.]


	4. IV - Burning Questions

**IV - Burning Questions**

As the sands shifted, Nyx is trapped within a crumbling mausoleum. Yet she soon finds out that her prison is not what it seems...

* * *

As she came to her senses, Nyx felt the sharp pain of hunger in her stomach. Thirst. Fatigue. A headache. Something uncomfortable tied around her neck. The cold stone of the floor beneath her.

 _Wait, how can I feel the floor like this? Am I not wearing my robe anymore?_

She tried to move her arms, but they were tied together. So were her legs.

Struggling, she managed to get to her knees. As her eyes started to adjust to the darkness, she began to make out a roughly square room, a torch, a door...

 _A dungeon cell?_

An amulet hung around her neck on a gold wire.

 _A magic seal. Oh no..._

No wonder she felt so hollow. The amulet disrupted the flow of magical energies around her. Nyx felt as if she was deaf without her ability to sense the energy around her. There would be no magicking her way out of this one.

Nyx began to take stock of her situation. She had been stripped of her travel cloak, her bag, her jewellery... She was left only in her sandals, her undergarments, and her traditional Nohrian mage's cape.

 _But why? Where?_

No sooner had she asked than her question was answered.

Two men burst through the door, finely dressed in what appeared to be ceremonial military uniforms, with a golden bird, wings spread wide, proudly displayed across the fronts of their cloaks. One pushed her to the ground and held her there, while the other wrapped a blindfold around her eyes, then a gag around her mouth.

They lifted her up roughly, one holding each arm, and dragged her out of the cell. Down a hallway. Several straights and turns later, they pulled her up staircase, paying no regard to her feet painfully dragging on the steps. Through a door. Another hallway, another door.

Then, she felt fresh air on her skin, hot and dry, but invigorating nonetheless.

 _Outside_.

She was dragged forward and down a flight of stairs, before finally being set down on her knees on another rough stone floor.

She could hear distant whispers, voices in an unknown but familiar language.

Another voice arose, this one louder, closer, clear and powerful. A few commanding shouts, and she heard a roar, as if from a crowd.

The dominant voice barked a few commands. The guards grabbed her arms, raised them over her head, and pulled her into an upright position. A gloved hand shoved her backwards against a hard object, her back against it, her feet on some sort of carpet. She felt a metal chain being tied around her wrists. Then, another chain, tying her legs to the object behind her.

A few more orders, and then the blindfold was untied...

* * *

The bright sunlight stunned her. Clear blue skies. Buildings. Endless dunes of sand. Still disoriented, she began to put things together. Moving her head from side to side as she looked around, she finally understood her situation. She was high up on the balcony of the gigantic temple pyramid at the end of the desert city's main avenue. Straight ahead in the distance, she could see the majestic statue of the bird-man that brought her so much trouble, its back facing her, one arm still amputated. Below the balcony there was a massive crowd, stretching far into the street. A tumult of voices, whispering, roaring, cheering.

She was chained to a cold, golden statue depicting a bird with its wings spread wide, not unlike the one she could see in the distance. Below her feet was a carpet, the area around the statue covered with bundles of rags and sticks, greasy, wet, unpleasant.

 _A life for an artificial arm, it seems._

On either side of her stood a decorated guard. Further on the edges of the balcony, there were several more, standing upright, flawless posture, at attention.

Ahead of her stood a man in an exquisite cream robe, again with golden wings embroidered across the chest. The man was clearly someone of great import, being adorned in such finely decorated silks. He was opening one of a few books lying on a table. Flipping through a few pages, he finally turned to Nyx, observed her, then turned to the crowd.

 _The birds, the statues, it all makes sense now._

His arms spread open, resembling the unfolded wings of the bird statues, he addressed the crowd in their native tongue. Nyx only understood a couple words she had learned in her studies: foreigner, mage, curse. When the man finished his speech, the crowd roared.

 _Some sort of high priest, is he?_

The arbiter then slowly turned toward her, a menacing glare in his eyes. His face was rough and wrinkled, even though he did not appear to be very old. He shouted a recitation at her in the unfamiliar tongue, pointing accusingly. The crowd roaring every time he took a dramatic pause, with the loudest roar after he finished.

For a moment, their eyes locked. His were dark, cold, as if they were of a man possessed.

He then spoke to her in the common language, this time in a lower voice, having already satisfied the crowd.

"Child of the Fallen, you who bear the marks of the first curse, you who bring plague and disaster to us, you who spread corruption and pestilence among the righteous. The evidence is clear. The gods themselves testify against you. They bring down their fist to smite you, wicked and wretched being. Their sacred herons saw everything. Their avatar himself renders judgement against you."

 _What is he babbling on about. What evidence?_

 _Birds, avatars, what is this nonsense... Ah, this is about that statue, isn't it._

"You have sinned. You bear the marks of guilt on your face. Your wrongdoing has been noticed, and made plain for all to see," he continued. From his manner of speaking, Nyx presumed he was repeating to her the same speech he gave to crowd, but in the common tongue now, for her understanding.

It all became clear.

 _The cursed marks on my face... Is that why they would not speak to me? Is that why they hate me?_

 _They aren't wrong... It is my own fault that I bear this curse._

"What have you to say in your defence?" demanded the arbiter, gesturing to the side.

One of the guards came over and ripped off the cloth tied around her mouth.

 _Ah, this is all meant to be some mockery of a trial. It doesn't matter what I say, they will condemn me anyway. The crowd didn't come here to see a prisoner walk free. They came here to see their twisted version of justice rendered._

Thinking for a moment, she spoke. "The statue wasn't me, it was your bird. I have not done anything to your people."

"You dare insult the sacred birds of the gods?" lashed out the arbiter. "They see through your facade, your disguise in the form of a child! The gods themselves brought down the avatar's arm, to warn us of your treachery!"

 _This is hopeless. They've made up their minds the moment they saw me._

"I did nothing to your people, nor did I have any plans to. I merely came here to investigate the tomb of the pharaoh Menes'Abydos."

A curious expression appeared on the man's face, but it soon faded. "The truth is written on your face. The Mark of the Original Fall is proof of your ways. You deserve to be removed from the world, your heretic ways to be purified through fire. You have tried to escape, but the sands of the desert have brought you back to us. The land itself speaks out against you."

Her arms were tied, her magic was sealed. Defeated, Nyx thought to ask one last question, to see if this journey was all in vain.

"Tell me this, at least. The tomb of Menes'Abydos. The hourglass of legend. Is it true? Is it really there, beyond the prismatic seal?"

Her judge was taken aback. He took a few steps closer to her, until he was close enough to reach her.

"How do you know of the seal?" he demanded.

"I've been there. I passed through it. _"_

The arbiter was stunned. His eyes widened. He paused for a moment, stroked the rough little beard on his chin, then spoke. For the first time, a hint of apprehension appeared in his voice.

"I have been trying to find the tomb for decades! Once, long ago, I was fortunate enough to set foot inside, but I could not get past the seal. I had to admit defeat. I spent years of my life trying to figure out its secret. When I thought I did, when I returned to claim my prize, the sands had shifted again, the tomb was there no longer."

He mused for a moment, then lashed out again.

"To think that a heretic witch like you could not only find the tomb, but solve its riddle? Preposterous!"

Another moment's reflection, another dreadful silence.

"Tell me where, tell me how, and I will... let you go," he offered.

 _Aha! So there is a way out. This man is clearly obsessed with the hourglass. I can see it in his eyes. He desires it as if it were his life's goal._

"I can take you to it," she responded.

She knew she couldn't, but it was worth a shot.

The man paced about in front of her, brow furrowed, occasionally rubbing his chin, clearly in thought. He stopped a few times, as if he was going to speak to her, then continued pacing.

 _He's tempted._

Finally, he approached her again.

"I don't know how you could possibly have known about the seal. It is not written of in any text. No one has entered the inner chamber for thousands of years. I only know of it because I was the first. I have seen it with my own eyes. Yet speak as if you had accessed it yourself..."

 _I've got him._

The arbiter reflected for another moment.

"No... You deceive me. You were found lying in the sands. There was no sign of the tomb in the area. You cannot have found it on your own. He would not have called _you_ to it. I do not know how you got this knowledge, but I will not fall to your temptation!"

He waved to the guards. They came over to Nyx, and one wrapped the gag around her mouth again. The other made sure the chains were secure.

 _No... I was so close..._

* * *

The magister stepped forward to the edge of the balcony, proclaiming a frenzied litany to crowd, who exploded in a bloodthirsty roar. He picked up a book from the table, the one he opened earlier, and recited a few words to the masses gathered in front of him. Their chanting grew louder.

He then turned around, and holding the book, he spoke a few lines in a still more ancient language that Nyx had never heard before. He lifted his hand to the sky, and a bright light descended upon Nyx.

The light took the shape of a majestic bird, again like the statue she was tied to. The crowd fell silent in response to the light, which faded just as quickly as it had appeared. To the gathered people, it was a heavenly blessing, meant to sanctify her before the oncoming ordeal. To Nyx, it was just a fancy light trick, nothing more.

The magister closed the book, went to the table, and retrieved the second tome, bound in blazing red. This one Nyx recognized.

 _An Elfire tome. So that's what it's going to be..._

In a booming voice, the magister shouted, "You who bear the Mark of the Original Fallen. You who walk the way of the Heretic. You who defile the footsteps of the gods. May the fire cleanse and purify you!"

Nyx struggled against the chains, but could do nothing.

With her mind and soul she grasped for a breath of magical energy, but she could reach nothing, thanks to the seal around her neck.

A few more words in the ancient language, and he began to cast the spell, making the appropriate gestures to channel the energies.

Nyx couldn't help but notice the poor spellcasting form, and was strangely bothered by it, even though it was meant to be the instrument of her demise.

An odd thought to have at such a moment. But the moment faded, and Nyx was enveloped by a sudden despair.

 _He's not completely wrong. I have sinned. I have caused so much pain and suffering. I am cursed. I suppose I deserve this after all._

 _I... I just... wish I had done more to set things right. To undo what I have done._

A single tear streamed down Nyx's face, as she admitted defeat.

The arbiter finished the incantation. A bolt of fire roared from his hand.

Nyx tried to repel the spell. She put her entire strength, her entire soul into trying to ward it off. But it was not enough. The fireball exploded around her. She managed to withstand the initial blast, in part due to the magic seal around her neck. But the fiery explosion had lit the rags and sticks under her feet, and the fire soon reached her.

The flames quickly engulfed her. She would have screamed if she could, but her mouth was tied shut. Pain beyond what was possible. Agony. Burning.

The light of day was fading. The distant sun was descending into a fiery orange sunset.

The long dark night arrived. Everything faded from view. Pitch black. Darkness. Nothingness...


	5. V - Fleeting Answers

**Episode V - Fleeting Answers**

With fire comes cleansing. Destruction. Purification. Nyx finds herself before an opportunity to change the past itself, but is the price to be paid too high? Is this cursed life, full of pain and suffering, a life worth struggling through?

* * *

Darkness. Pitch black. Then, a fire. Larger and larger it grew, until it consumed everything in sight.

Screaming. Panic. Shrieks of horror. Houses burned around her. Structures collapsed. Men, women, and children scrambled about in terror. Some tried to save what was left of their homes. Most were running away, their life's work burning up before their eyes.

A young girl stood there. Finely dressed, in an soft, flowing gown. Long, dark hair, fancy bracelets around her wrists, a silver chain around her neck. She stood still, as if she were inanimate. The village folk were fleeing around her, away from the heart of the fire, but she was staring right into it.

Then, she laughed. Louder and louder, her laugh transformed into an uproarious cackle. There was only fire in her eyes. Her hands were placed on her hips. Desperate yelling and terrified screams filled the air around her, but she laughed.

 _Why am I laughing? No, stop, stop it! I didn't want this! Don't do this!_

The girl laughed louder and louder. She raised her arms in the air ahead of her, as if to proclaim, "Behold! How glorious is my work, that lights up the darkness of the night!" She stood defiant, unmoved by the flaming inferno around her, admiring her work, the chaos she could cause, the terror she could inspire, the power she could wield. What took decades for some to build up, she reduced to ash in minutes. Oh, how it all amused her.

 _Stop it! Stop it. STOP IT!_

Nyx reached out, on the verge of tears, trying to grasp the girl, trying to get her to snap out of it, but as she approached, the fire consumed everything, and the darkness took her once again.

* * *

As her vision returned, Nyx found herself in an uneasy darkness, illuminated by a flickering blue. Disoriented and in despair, it took her a moment to realize that this place was strangely familiar. She was standing in a cavernous chamber, a structure of ancient stone. Torches of blue flame were attached high up on the walls. Ahead of her was a large rectangular object. As she approached it, Nyx realized it was a sarcophagus, a splendid decorated figure lying on a rectangular base. She walked around it, her hand outstretched towards the sarcophagus, careful not to touch it. Beyond it, against the far wall of the chamber, was an ornate sculpture of a man in kingly garb, sword in one outstretched hand, hourglass in the other.

 _The tomb. But why? What is this meant to be? Some sort of dream, illusion, or am I really dead?_

Her interest was drawn to the stone table in front of the massive statue. On it was a box, wrapped in a glowing chain. Intricate designs and runes were carved into it, each emitting its own glow: some red, some yellow, some orange. A reliquary, the kind used to house potent, often dangerous, magical artifacts.

 _Aha, so it is here._

Nyx approached slowly, cautiously. She placed her hands around the box, one on each side, palms flat, barely hovering beside it, making sure not to make contact with it. She closed her eyes, and entered the lock with her mind. Patterns of lines and flashing lights before a black background appeared in her mind's vision. She observed, waited, slowed her breathing, calmed herself. The chaotic mess of shape and color started to transform her before her, turning into ordered, rhythmic pulses and lines. She began to rearrange the forms in her mind, moving them around, shifting them, as if she were assembling a child's puzzle. The pattern of the pulses of color revealed a subtle order to it, each barely hinting at a larger whole. After several minutes of manipulating these shapes in her mind, the pattern started to come together, like a jigsaw puzzle. A few more mental movements, and there it was. The riddle was solved.

The lock released, the chain enveloping the box lost its glow, and fell away. Nyx placed her hands on the reliquary's lid, and slowly slid it open. As she did so, she heard another sound behind her, as if a heavy object was being dragged across the floor.

Before she could discern the contents of the box, she swiveled her head around, then abruptly spun around her entire body, gasping in shock.

The lid of the sarcophagus was sliding to the right, as if it were opening itself. The lid finally slid to the side and dropped to the floor with a thud. For a moment, Nyx was filled with sheer terror. Not only was she in this strange place that resembled the tomb she had visited not long ago, but she was here with someone, or something, else.

* * *

A sound emerged from the sarcophagus. A moan. A hand reached straight up, out of the darkness. Slowly, a torso emerged, lifting itself up to a sitting position. Nyx instinctively reached for her bag, containing her tomes, but she only grasped thin air. Without her magic tomes, she was near helpless.

 _Curses_.

The creature ahead of her vaguely resembled a man. It was wrapped in bandages, torn and tattered, and through the holes in the wrappings she could see putrid, unnatural skin, colored black with a purplish tinge. The creature slowly swiveled its head around, then turned the rest of its torso around at an unnatural angle.

She looked for an escape, but could not find one. Only now she saw that past the sarcophagus on the other side yawned a wide abyss, with only the narrowest of bridges spanning the gap to the chamber's exit, barely a foot's width across. A blazing blue fire raged across the chasm, making passage across impossible.

 _That would explain why everything looks so blue around here..._

She could do little more but stand and watch in horror. No way to escape, no way to defend herself.

The foul creature ahead of her finished turning itself backwards. Its face, too, was bandaged, but she could see its eyes, globes of a swirling dark teal, like murky water from the depths, without any pupils. It was emotionless, expressionless. It stared in her direction.

Then, it spoke. "I am Menes'Abydos, the first Pharaoh King of the empire of Abydos, which bears my name. I have reigned for over a thousand years, and built the greatest empire known to man."

 _No way. It can't be him. He can't be alive..._

"You... Who dares tread among my burial grounds? Trespasser..." he hissed. His voice was deep, deeper than any Nyx had heard before.

 _How can this be possible?_

"I am Nyx, dark mage of Nohr, scholar of the arcane, seeker of the mysteries of the universe. I came here in search of the hourglass that can turn back time, but I know not how I got here, not this time..." she answered, at first with hesitation, but then building up confidence.

"Ah... So you do not disturb me in vain." He tilted his head, as if in wonder. "You set out on this journey yourself, but Fate has lead you here now. I felt its pull, first casting you aside, then bringing you here."

"So you knew I was coming?" Nyx wondered. The Pharaoh did not seem hostile, and she could not think of another way to escape this place. She did not see any point in hiding from him.

"When one lives for tens of thousands of years, and when one has learned to study and manipulate the strings of time and space as I have, one learns to listen for even the fainest of vibrations in the threads of fate," was the ancient Pharaoh's response.

"Tens of thousands of years?!" exclaimed Nyx.

 _Was this man truly immortal?_

"Yes. Such is my fate. I tried to escape it, and I could not. Fate catches up to _everyone._ Even me."

"B-but... how?" asked Nyx, thoughts racing through her head.

"Reach into the reliquary, and you will see," was the answer. The blank stare, if it could be called that, remained on the Pharaoh's face. The waters of his eyes swirled, like the undercurrents of the ocean's depths.

Nyx turned around, and gazed into the arcane chest she had unlocked moments ago. In it, there was an object, barely visible in the shadow cast by her body. She reached in and pulled it out, turning around so she could see it better in the blue fire's light.

Nyx gasped.

The object was an hourglass. Its frame was made of a dark material, black like obsidian, with intricate carvings of peculiar beasts not known to modern man etched into it. There was a white sand in its bulbs, just over half of it in the bottom one. In the top bulb, grains of sand were suspended in the air, as if they were defying gravity itself.

 _The hourglass of legend. It really exists!_

"So it is real... Are the legends true, about this hourglass?" asked Nyx, her hopes rising high.

"They are, and they are not. If you are speaking of its ability to manipulate the flow of time itself, that is partially true. But its powers are far, far greater than that," was the Pharaoh's answer.

Nyx asked the most important question, the one she had been trying to find the answer to for years. "So can I... go back in time?"

"In a way... but there are consequences."

"So I _could_ go back in time? To before... I made a mistake? And undo it, as if it had never been done?" inquired Nyx, with great eagerness. The solution she was trying to find all these years was within her grasp.

"It is not that simple," warned the mummified pharaoh, with hints of what could have been a frown appearing on his face.

"I have used the hourglass many times in my... life. Each time, I would return to the same day. The day I became Pharaoh. Each time I rebuilt my empire greater than the last, conquered more lands, acquired more wealth, gained more knowledge. I had built the greatest empire known to man. Yet it was not without consequence."

"My empire... it fell after my death. Just like me, it did not last. Everything now lies forgotten, only the tomb here or the statute there or the occasional tablet is all that is left," he lamented. "That, to me, is far worse than the state I am in now."

"Like you, I am cursed. I have lived and reigned for thousands of years," he continued. "Then came the moment when I was fated to die, yet I did not die. I was sealed here, imprisoned, to watch over the Hourglass for all eternity. I am here before you... not quite dead, not quite alive. I sought immortality... and this is what I received. "

"But... why?" inquired Nyx. What transgression was great enough to warrant an eternity of solitude?

"Therein lies the heart of the matter. This hourglass... it does not merely turn back time."

"When the sand runs out, the universe will come to an end. Whenever the hourglass is used, one more grain of sand becomes permanently stuck at the bottom. That is the price of its power: it cuts short the existence of _everything_ by millions of years," explained the artifact's sentinel.

"Wait, you mean the universe... has an end?" asked Nyx, a puzzled expression on her face. If that were true, that provide the answer to one of the greatest mysteries of existence, and one of the most horrifying ones.

"All things have a beginning, and an ending. This world too shall pass. Perhaps something new shall begin in its place," was his reply.

"But... how?" continued the inquisitive sorceress.

"This hourglass, it does not truly turn back time. It only alters its path." The Pharaoh waved his hands, and faint bluish image of a growing tree appeared between them.

"Time does not stop. It is ever flowing. The paths of time are like the branches of this tree. Every decision, every action, can branch into many different paths... yet this universe only takes one," he explained, pointing to the illusion of the tree, where a branch split into two.

"The combined sum of all the choices, all the events that occur... is beyond counting. Yet the whole universe takes but one path."

Nyx watched the holographic tree grow larger, its trunk rising upwards, its branches splitting into multitudes of smaller ones that continued to grow and split. Of all the paths that the tree displayed, one in particular was highlighted in a lighter hue.

"The Hourglass... it does not reverse time. It merely shifts the timeline the universe has followed, from one branch to another." He gestured sharply, and the illuminated path was cut off, the branch falling off to the ground, severed, as another series of branches beside it lit up instead.

"Everything that happened until the shift... it still happened. It is not erased. All the joy and suffering, all the happiness and pain, life an loss... it still happens. But that path is cut off. That timeline ends. Those possibilities are foreclosed. The universe shifts to a different path... but the health of the whole is no better off for it."

"I don't understand..." admitted Nyx, trying to grasp what she was being told.

"In short; every time the hourglass is used, something is lost in the transition. Another grain of sand stays suspended in the bulb, subtracted from the time alloted to the existence of the universe. Everything that could have happened, every being that could have lived during that time; it won't ever happen, it won't ever live."

Shifting her gaze to the hourglass she was holding, Nyx observed a single grain of sand fall from the top bulb to the bottom. She shivered. The thought of the universe approaching its ultimate end filled her with dread.

The mummified king appeared to sigh. "Yet when I found that out, I continued to use the hourglass, in my lust for power and glory. In a away, I had thought I found a way to cheat death itself. But I was wrong. _Everything_ has a consequence."

"Now you must ask yourself: Is whatever you want to change, worth the price that has to be paid?"

* * *

Nyx stood there, looking on at the immortal Pharaoh and his illustrative universe-tree.

"B-but..." she stammered, but was interrupted by the guardian.

"No more asking... now is the time to decide," he demanded.

"How do I get out of here?" asked Nyx, disregarding the ultimatum.

"You use the Hourglass, and shift the path of time. Or you walk through the fire, and leave this place forever."

"W-what if I -" Nyx tried again.

"Choose!" threatened the Pharaoh. His voice was deeper, more stern this time. He would have no more questions.

Thoughts raced through Nyx's head. This was what she was searching for all these years. A chance to undo the harm she had done. To go back, back before she had hurt so many, and set things right, make sure the pain and suffering she caused had never happened. It was in her hands. All she had to do was to focus her thoughts, and turn over the hourglass she was holding. Yet to do so would cut short the life of the universe itself; to deprive countless beings of the opportunity to exist. Here was the solution to her flaws, yet it too was flawed. Here was the tool to erase her sins, yet it too would leave behind unpleasant marks.

What else could she do? Walk through the fire, across the abyss? To what end?

After several moments, or what perhaps could have been an eternity, she made her choice. She turned around, and set the hourglass back into its chest, with a hint of sorrow in her heart.

 _I'm sorry... I wish I could save you, but not at this cost... Not like this._

Nyx turned around, head low. "I can't do this. I can't keep running away," she said.

"What's done is done," responded the decaying, yet undying, Menes.

"Will... you be okay here?" asked Nyx of the Pharaoh, wondering if there was some way to help him.

"I am how I am. This is my punishment. A life until the end of time, yet a fate worth than death itself." he answered, emotionless.

"T-thank you... for helping me understand," she said meekly.

The Pharaoh did not respond. He merely continued to stare, then twisted his body around, and slowly lied down, returning to his timeless contemplation.

Nyx walked forward, around the sarcophagus, towards the abyss that preceded the exit to the burial chamber. Roaring blue flames danced up from the seemingly bottomless chasm, their glow eerie, their warmth real. Only a narrow stone path bridged the gap, leading to the portal beyond. Barely a foot's width across, she would have to traverse it one foot at a time.

She took a deep breath.

 _I can't keep trying to go back. I must face my sins and my past. I can't changed what's happened... I can only suffer and atone for it._

Into the flames she marched. They lashed at her, tearing into her skin, biting into her flesh. Onwards she pressed, one foot ahead of the other, maintaining her balance despite the pain, the near unbearable pain. Like an acrobat walking a tightrope, she trudged forward. At times, the pain seemed to disappear. At times, it intensified. The blue flames burned her, scalded her, yet her flesh did not melt.

The agony was so intense that she wanted to fall over, to plunge into the abyss, to end it once and for all, and be lost to the void forever.

 _No. I must keep going. My life... it's still worth living. I have to believe. I... I can still do right in the world. Even if I can't go back. Even if I can't fix things. Maybe... I can still..._

The flames began to recede. The pain lessened, as she began to learn her lesson. Just like that, she was at the far end of the bridge, the swirling blue portal ahead of her. To where it lead, she did not know. All she knew was that she had to keep moving forward, from here until eternity, and never look back.

With another deep breath, and a twinge of regret, she stepped in, eyes closed, forever turning her back on her chance to turn back time.

* * *

As Nyx opened her eyes, she felt a certain lightness about her. Orange and red and yellow danced about, but she did not feel anything. The fire burned around her, but did not consume her. She tugged forward, and the chains around her arms loosened, and fell away. She tried to take a step, and the chains binding her legs likewise broke and fell away. She stepped through the fire, as if it wasn't even there.

As she did so, she heard a gasp, a yell, confused muttering, and a roar, as if from a crowd...

She was on the balcony of the temple. The once clear blue desert sky was darkened with a hint of purple, as the sun approached the horizon in the distance. Looking down at her hands, it was as if she was never even burnt in the first place. She reached for the amulet around her neck, the one that sealed her magic, and cast it aside. She took a few more steps forward, defiantly, silencing the crowd that had gathered to watch her burn.

 _They will not have their execution today._

The guards closed in towards her, spears raised, but the luxuriously clad magister waved them away. The fury and frustration could be seen on his face.

"I know not what foul sorcery you used to survive. You will not escape your punishment," scowled the gloomy arbiter.

"Have I not survived your trial? Have I not been proven innocent?" responded Nyx, with a grim satisfaction.

"A heretic like you does not deserve to live!" he shouted. "I have other ways to deal with you, wretch," he huffed arrogantly, clearly annoyed.

The magister pulled a miniature book out of one of his robes' deep pockets, and a talisman out of the other. He pointed both towards Nyx, and began to cast a spell. A hexagon of light appeared below him, with a strange symbol in the middle.

"Begone, foul fiend!" he roared, as he unleashed a burst of energy towards Nyx. The magic took the shape of a frog, translucent, a faint green in color, swimming towards her.

Nyx braced herself. With the magic seal out of the way, she closed her eyes and concentrated the energies around her into a barrier, to absorb the energy of the spell as much as possible.

* * *

When the frog leaped into her, she felt the connection between her and the magister open, as their minds interlocked in a struggle, much like savage men would engage in arm wrestle. Thoughts, colours, shapes raced through her mind, as she pushed against his, trying to overpower him, drown out his thoughts, shatter his will. The images became less chaotic, less unnerving, as they eased themselves into a recognizable sight...

 _Hop_. _Hop_. _Hop_. _Rribbit!_ She bounded along the forest floor with great haste. She looked upwards, to make sure she was in the clear. The towering trees obscured the line of sight. It was not far to the water's edge.

 _Hop_. _Hop_. _Hop_. Then, a screech, from high above. She increased her pace, jumping further and further with each hop, as fast as her amphibian legs could take her. She could now see the heron circling above, through the gaps in the forest canopy. He knew she was there. She tried to take cover under shrubs and foliage as best as she could, but the predator's eyes were sharp and hard to deceive. She had no choice but to keep going.

Not far to the water. Not far to safety. The forest ended abruptly, giving way to a swampy marshland, the one she called home. The bird of prey caught sight of her. Majestic, terrifying, it circled around, then began its descent. It was now or never. She hopped as fast as she possibly could, the final stretch to safety. The heron swooped down with astonishing swiftness. A race for life and death. A contest between prey and predator.

 _Hop_. _Hop_. _Hop_. _Splash_! Into the water she leaped. Cool, refreshing, icy; it felt wonderful against her slimy skin. Diving downward, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Too soon.

The heron crashed into the water, penetrating its surface, grabbing her in his long, pointed beak. Just as suddenly, it turned back upwards, and emerged from the swampy water, prize in its beak. She squirmed and struggled, trying to free herself. She felt the pressure of the bird's beak, trying to crush the life out of her. Higher and higher they rose, ascending into the sky. Her chances of survival diminished with each passing second. She thrashed about wildly, flailing aimlessly. She began to suffocate. She could feel the surface of her skin starting to tear, her bones starting to break.

Then, the vice grip went limp. The ascent stopped. The heron stalled in mid air, then let go. Down, down she fell, smashing into the water's surface, the impact painful yet almost a relief at the same time. Back into the cool water. Back to safety.

Another splash behind her. The heron slammed into the water as well, limp, lifeless, no longer majestic but now looking frail and pitiable. It fell below the surface, suspended in the water, a moment frozen in eternity.

The poison had worked. The hunter had been tricked by the hunted. Didn't he read the marks on her back? The colored ones, that screamed, "stay away!"

In nature, it was the survival of the fittest. In the world of man, it was survival of the most clever.

* * *

Her vision returning, she found herself on the floor, where she had stood just moments before. As she got up, she observed a pile of cream coloured cloth ahead of her. The garments rustled, as if they were alive. A frog jumped out from one of the sleeves. It gave off a croak, as if asking a question. It turned it's gaze towards Nyx, and stared at her.

Nyx couldn't help but laugh. She had reversed the magister's spell back on him in the most ironic way possible. The heron had now become the frog.

This didn't mean she was out of hot water yet. She rushed to the table, picking up the crimson bound tome that was used to set her alight, and turned, ready to defend herself from the temple's guards. Yet they stood aback... afraid?

Nyx stepped toward one. He backed up. She stepped forth again. Same reaction. Another guard turned tail and fled. They all kept their distance from her.

 _Haha. Now they're really scared. They're afraid I'll turn them into frogs as well... or worse._

Nyx was able to leave the temple unbothered. Turning their high priest into a lowly frog had struck fear into the believer's hearts. As she exited the temple and proceeded down the avenue, what was left of the crowd parted before her. Some whispered amongst themselves. Some stood silent. Mothers turned their children's sight away. Others turned and walked away. Triumphantly, she paraded down the alley.

Eventually, she realized that this was not such a good idea, and tucked into a side alley. She would still have to find food, supplies, a mount... The people may fear her, but she doubted they would help her assemble what she needed to brave the desert in her return journey, either. She could threaten them into providing her with what she needed, but she would rather not cause any more trouble than she already had.

As she wondered about how she will escape from the desert city, she noticed a man standing in the middle of her way. Unlike the others, he did not budge as she approached. The man was not dressed like the locals, either. He was clad in a dark blue robe. It appeared to be a mage's garb, but from some distant land Nyx had never been to. His hair and beard were extraordinarily long, and colored a slate grey. His face was wrinkled, showing warmth and wisdom. He supported himself on a tall, winding staff, with a blue orb at its tip.

The man smiled. "Well done!" he chuckled.

Nyx looked at him quizzically, not sure what to make of the stranger. She stayed silent.

"That was most impressive," he continued.

"Excuse me?" replied Nyx, still not quite understanding.

"The way you fought for survival, the way you bear the weight on your shoulders... It's so nice to see the determination and will of youth once again," the traveler explained.

"I'm not nearly as young as -" Nyx tried to correct him, but the man interrupted her.

"Oh, I know. I know about your curse, that you are no mere child," he revealed.

"How... How could you know?" she asked, astonished and surprised.

"On your face, you bear the marks of the Fallen. They show to the world that you have sinned and done wrong, but they also protect you from harm," he explained.

"They... protect me?" asked Nyx. She had always despised the marks on her cheeks and forehead that had accompanied her curse of her forever childish body. She saw that they occasionally glowed, but she had not known that they had any property to them other than being a mark of shame.

"Yes. Only if you are strong enough to make use of that protection, that is," he continued with his explanation. He stopped for a moment, then said, with a tone of sadness, "You are not meant to _die_. You are meant to _live_ and _suffer_."

Nyx was taken aback by the statement. A moment of silence followed, as she refleted on this refelation.

 _Live and suffer?_

Then, the barrage of questions from Nyx continued. "How do you know all this? Who are you?"

"I am – no, who I am is not important. I am merely an old man who has traveled far and wide, and learned quite a few things in his wanderings."

"Can you... do you know how I can remove this curse?" she asked.

"I cannot help you with that, my friend. It is your weight to bear, and only you can find an answer for yourself."

"I think you know more than you let on," she said, trying to fish more information out of him.

"I've already said too much. Everyone's sins are as unique as they themselves, and so everyone must suffer, atone, and find redemption in their own way. I will say no more." he finished.

"Can this curse even be removed at all?" she asked, one more futile question.

"That's for you to find out," said the stranger with a smile.

Out of his traveler's bag, the elder magus handed her a cloak, and provided her with a few gold coins. "The people of this city may not be willing to sell anything to you, but there's a guild of less than savory characters down that alley that I expect would be more tolerant," he said, pointing behind her. She turned her head to look where he had pointed, and when she turned back around, the man was gone, only the faint feeling of a mist left behind. The whole encounter was surreal, but the gold and the cloak she was holding were certainly real.

After Nyx had left the desert city, she adopted the custom of the desert's dancers, and started wearing a veil over her face, to obscure from view the marks engraved on her face as a result of her sins, a she continued to wander the lands, in search of redemption and atonement...

* * *

 _This marks the end of this story arc, of shifting sands, eternal deserts, immortal pharaohs, burning questions, and time itself.  
_


End file.
